“Approve?” he repeated, his voice rougher than usual. He paused, his eyes still on her, and for the first time, he did not bother to hide it. “It is… perfect.”
The compliment sank into her with a spark. Her lips parted; she was unable to control the warmth spreading through her. She swallowed, hoping her knees would not buckle.
Then, with a satisfied nod, she turned back toward the fitting cabin to change.
When she had vanished behind the curtain, Percival waved a hand to Madame Lisette.
“Make ten more,” he spoke quietly when the modiste had stepped close enough.
She blinked. “Ten, Your Grace?”
“In different colors,” he said firmly, as though he dared her to question him again. “Send them all to Whitmore Estate.”
Madame Lisette’s lips parted in surprise. But she quickly composed herself and gave a low bow. Her face softened.
There was no mistaking it; the Duke of Whitmore cared. Perhaps too much for his own good, but enough for those who dared to look closer.
When Aurelia reemerged from the fitting cabin, Percival was composed again. He stood tall, the very picture of restrained power.
However, when they walked out of the shop, she noticed the glint in the modiste’s eyes, and she smiled back.
It warmed Aurelia in ways she hadn’t expected to know that the woman’s fear had transformed into admiration.
Outside the shop, the carriage stood waiting for them. But Aurelia wasn’t ready to climb in just yet. She had not been in Mayfair for months, and the smell of late autumn tempted her.
She glanced up at Percival, her eyes bright. “Could we take a walk in the park?” she asked.
His brow rose faintly. “The park?”
“Hyde Park,” she clarified, smiling at the thought. “Do you remember? The first time I saw you was there. Or rather, when Sir Whiskerton hissed at you as if you were his sworn enemy,” she added with a soft laugh.
The memory briefly replayed in his mind because his lips curved faintly. However, he quickly masked it. “I remember.”
“They say Hyde Park is always crowded at this hour. We might run into my family, or perhaps Hyacinth or the twins.” She tilted her head, her eyes hopeful.
Percival stiffened slightly, a frown creasing his brow. “Crowds are… not to my taste.”
Her smile didn’t falter. Instead, she made a daring move. She slipped her hand into his. Her warm fingers curled around his and squeezed slightly.
Percival froze. His eyes dropped to her hand holding his, as though he had never seen anything like it. Her touch felt like a soft demand, sweet yet impossible to resist.
“Please,” she whispered, tilting her chin up. Her brown eyes shone with quiet mischief and something deeper.
Their gazes held. A current passed between them, the kind that made Percival’s pulse thunder.
At last, with a grunt that sounded more like surrender than agreement, he muttered, “Very well.”
Aurelia beamed again before releasing him, and his hand instantly grew cold.
They walked side by side beneath the long row of trees, Percival secretly admiring the way she chatted lightly with the birds and stray animals.
“Oh, how I have missed coming to the park,” she cooed.
Percival stole a glance at her. There was something about the joy on her face that made him want to bring her to the park more often.
The late sun beat down on them, and they continued to walk until something ahead stopped them short.
Aurelia’s eyes widened, and her breath hitched. Ahead, familiar figures were walking along the path.